Blood Is Not Always Family
by desolate1
Summary: !HeYa! Nyla is an 8yr old basketball player who recently suffered the loss of her parents, and now she is in the care of her aunt and uncle. One day she came across a weird little t.v. show that she didn't know would change her life for the better. Brittany P./Heather Morris Santana L./Naya Rivera
1. Realization

**A.N** _This is my first HeYa story, so please be gentle.  
It starts off having nothing to do with either actresses, but the plot will pick up in the second chapter.  
 **P.S_I own nothing, except my imagination.**

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Nyla was not the average 8yr old girl. Come to think about it she never was. She was seriously into sports, well a sport. Basketball. "Ball is life" was never just a saying to her. She lived by it. It was something she was truly passionate about, and she didn't see that changing anytime soon.

She loved basketball more than anything, well with the exception of her parents of course. But unfortunately they died a few months before her 9th birthday. A car accident, well that was what it said on the eulogy. Nyla didn't believe it for one second.

She knew that her parents wouldn't be so reckless as if to leave her on the earth alone with no one to care for her. Whether it be intentional or not. So during the funeral she left her seat on the pew and exited the church.

Nyla is a very literal little girl. She is also naturally inquisitive. Those are some of the many small things that make her unique, special. So when her parents disused the matter of death with their child, they tried to make it as simple, and black and white as possible.

Her parents told her that when people die they go home. Just as simple as that. But they never explained to her where that home was. So that was where she was headed; her house.

Nyla bounded up the stairs of her front porch and headed straight for the artificial rock her parents hid the spare key under. She grabbed it and slowly pushed it into the lock. Shakily she twisted the knob and opened the door. Her heart was beating so hard and loud she felt it in her ears. That was when doubt started to push its way into her head. What if her parents where not here? What if they lied to her?

"They wouldn't lie to me," she said quietly to herself. Mainly trying to tame her doubtful thoughts. "They're gonna be here. They are gonna be here," she says trying to convince herself. Her search began frantic and desperate but ended defeated, and hopeless. She searched every room and every closet. Nothing, she came up with nothing.

"Please, please be here," she said to herself while tears began to flow freely down her cheeks. She sinks to her knees and lets out everything she had been holding in. This is her first time crying since she got the news of her parents death. She was so hung on the idea of them returning home that she never even considered that they actually wouldn't be here.

"I didn't even get to say goodbye." She silently wept on the floor of their kitchen until she heard something that she would recognize from anywhere. Her head whipped up so fast she could have suffered from whiplash.

"Is that…" she started. And then she heard the noise again, this only confirmed her thoughts. "It is!" She got up while wiping her eyes, and almost launched herself through the two double-sliding glass doors that lead to her backyard. There she saw her parents standing together facing her. Like they knew she was going to show up there or something. "Told you she'd know where to look," her father directed toward her mother.

Nyla was ecstatic. She ran toward both her parents with as much speed as she could get out of her little 8yr old legs, and wrapped her arms around both of their waists. "Mom, dad you're here! I knew you would be. Everyone thought you were dead, but I knew better. I knew you would be here."

Her mother and father exchanged sorrowful looks. "Honey," her mom started while loosening Nyla's grip around her waist and bending down to her level. It pained her that she had to look into her daughter's hope-filled eyes and crush her dreams. "We are dead."

Nyla's world collapsed, along with her all of her strength. Her knees where not enough to keep her upright anymore and she almost fell, until he mothers firm hands squeezed her forearms together keeping her up. "Y-you can't be. I c-can still see you." She managed to say in between sobs.

Her dad decided it was his turn to speak up. When he bent down, Nyla noticed the basketball at his feet. At least she was right about one thing. It was the bouncing of a basketball she heard.

"Ny, come here baby girl." Her mother let go of her arms allowing Nyla to move toward her father. Nyla wrapped her arms around her father's neck for dear life because she knew that it was going to be the last time she would be able to. After a minuet he pulled away and looked Nyla deep into her eyes. "Do you think you can promise me something?" Being at a loss for words she was only able to nod her head. Her father stood at his full height and grabbed the basketball.

He took one of Nyla's hands in his and placed the basketball there. He then took her other hand and placed it on the ball. "Never stop playing, okay Nyla. Never." He then gave her a loving kiss on the forehead and backed away.

Her mother began to speak up. "This isn't permanent, we will all be a family again just give it some time okay."

Sniffling Nyla answered. "Kay, b-but who will take care of me?"

"Your aunt and uncle. All they have to do is sign the guardianship documents, or else they cannot legally look after you." Her mother answered.

There was no more talking for a few minutes after that. It was just them, hugging. Both parents consoling their daughter. Her dad was the one to break the silence. "We love you Nyla, but it's our time to leave."

Nyla didn't fuss, she didn't cry, she just slowly let go of her parents and backed away. Releasing a breath she didn't know that she was holding, she let out a shaky "Bye." As she watched her parents slowly fade away her father's voice cut into her ears one last time, but with greater importance than before. "Remember Nyla, never stop." With that she was left alone with only a ball and the last image she will ever see of her parents some-what alive etched into her mind.

Looking at the ball in her hand she began dribbling with finesse only someone older would have. Before the death of her parents she was passionate about the sport, but now it ran deeper. Basketball was in her blood, it seemed like it was the only thing that connected her to her parents. And she was gonna continue doing it for the rest of her life.

Every trick she imagined with her mind, she tried to do with her body. Through the legs, behind the back, spin-off, step-back. Everything. This continued all night. When she woke up she had the ball clutched into her side, and her other arm under her head supporting and lifting it off of the ground.

"Nyla! Nyla!" She knew who that was. That voice belonged to her aunt. Instead of her voice being laced with worry and concern, it was laced with anger and irritation. _'What a great way to wake up'_ she thought. "Out here," she replied.

A few seconds later her aunt was opening the doors that lead to were Nyla lay outside. "Don't you ever run away again. Anything could have happened," her aunt spat at her. "And out of all places why come here?"

Nyla was standing now. Her parents never yelled at her the way her aunt did. Her father's sister was kinda cruel, and intimidating. She just stood there holding the basketball and looking at her feet. "I was taught that when p-people die g-g-go home. I thought they would be h-here," she finished. Her aunt looked at her like she was trying to figure out a rubix cube.

"Well, were they?" her aunt inquired.

Nyla didn't want to tell her aunt about anything that happened the night before. She felt it was better to keep it a secret. Something that was just between her and them, something she could keep close to her heart. "No, no they weren't."

"Excuse me?" her aunt chastised.

"I'm sorry-were not." How could someone expect an 8yr old to speak formal all the time.

Her aunt sighed. "Children are so stupid. That is exactly why you have no cousins. Come on Nyla, your uncle is in the car waiting."

Walking back through the house Nyla looked at all of the pictures of her and her parents. But only one was her favorite. When she turned 6 her parents took her to a Chicago Bulls game, and all 3 of them took a picture in the middle of the court. None of them knew that Benny the Bull was in the picture until they bought it from the photographer. Talk about a photo-bomb. He posed B-boy style behind them.

When her aunt wasn't looking she took the picture from its place on the shelf, and put it in the pocket of her dress. That is when she realized she was still in her clothes that she wore for the funeral. She can't wait to change out of it. She hates dresses.

Now approaching the car she could smell her uncle before she could see him. Nicotine and 6,999 other chemicals flooded her nostrils, and instantly made her chest tighten. Reaching in the other pocket her dress had to offer, she grabbed her inhaler and shook it vigorously. Bringing it up to her mouth she pressed down, and inhaled deeply. Twice.

"Gosh, Gerald how many cancer sticks did you smoke while I went into the house? 17?" her aunt asked her husband.

"No, Terry I didn't smoke 17 of them. It may be shocking to you, but I actually enjoy living."

Her aunt looked skeptical. "Oh really. Exactly how many did you smoke?"

Gerald thought back in very deep thought. "Umm, 6." He answered as he flicked his now finished cigarette out of the car window.

"Wow," her aunt deadpanned. "6 cigarettes in under two minutes. At that rate you are bound to set some type of world record, huh?"

Nyla stifled back a laugh, but her uncle caught it and glared at her. "Why don't you just get in the car weasy, before I make you walk," he barked at her. She quickly listened. Opening the door she gently put the basketball in first, and then herself. She knew that this was going to be a long ride.

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 **A.N** _Thanks to all who read. Please review to let me know how I'm doing.  
Sorry for any spelling, grammatical errors.  
 **Happy Holidays.**


	2. The Call

**A.N** _Thanks to everyone who read. I really appreciate it.  
Here is chapter 2. Enjoy  
 **P.S_I own nothing, but my imagination..**

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 **Nyla's POV**

I get out of the car with my basketball in hand, while my aunt and uncle follow closely behind. Reaching the door my uncle roughly pushes me to the side and surges the key into the nob. He opens the door and pushes me inside. His hands where rough, and callused. I almost gagged, but I knew I would get in trouble for it.

He made his way toward the fridge (for a beer I believe, other than cigarettes he lives off of those things). That was when my aunt look me by the hand and lead me up a flight of stairs leading to their attic. Looking around I see only a box t.v and an old tattered mattress lying discarded on the floor.

"This is where you will be sleeping for as long as you live here. Hopefully only 10 years. By that time you will be on your way to college. But if you wanna move out earlier then that I encourage you.." My aunt tailed off as she was thinking about anything else she was missing. "Lets see...that t.v barley turns on, and if it does it only gets one channel so I wouldn't even bother. No dinner as result of running away and...that's it. Yeah, see ya." With that she left.

When I couldn't hear the creaking of the stairs anymore I knew that she was completely gone. I began to walk around the attic, trying to see if I could find anything positive about my living quarters for the next 10 years. There were a lot of windows. _'I won't get too depressed.'_ I thought. It was pretty spacious. My parents taught me to try to always find the best in people and in situations. Yet I couldn't find any good that came out of my parents death.

I stopped walking around the attic when I came to the t.v. It looked like it hadn't been touched in years. Thick grey cobwebs lay casually over the screen, and the big box accompanying it. Swallowing my disgust, I quickly wiped them off, and shook my hand vigorously. "Ugh!"

I bring my hand up to casually run them over the buttons, trying to find the one to cut it on. I find it and press it. Nothing happens. I do it a few more times. Nothing. Zilch.

"Come on, just cut on for me. You know you wanna," I say trying to coax the television. Still nothing happened. "Wow, really. Stupid t.v." I say while kicking the ancient device. I turn away and walk toward one of the windows. You know that weird feeling of electricity that you can sense when someone walks into a room with you, or a t.v cuts on? Yeah, well I felt that and I turned toward the t.v. It was on!

"Yes!" I say while running over toward the device. Slowly people started to come into view. When the vision cleared a little I could see a group of girls in all black on a stage. It looked like they were in an auditorium. And they were...singing?

"What kind of t.v show is this." I was about to totally give up and cut the t.v back off until I heard something that froze the motion of my finger.

 _ **"Don't forget me, I beg/I remember you said..."**_

"Woah.." I said under my breath. Still quite amazed with the big powerful voice that came out of that small body. It was comforting. I haven't been comforted since the last time I seen my parents. Alive.

I got closer to the t.v and sat down right in front of it. I was completely fascinated with her performance. The other girl she was singing with was great too, but the brunette latina connected more with the song. I got so close too the t.v, I could she the pained expressions the little girl with the big voice would show. (And that is saying a lot because this t.v seems like it has never heard of the term HD).

And I don't know whether it was scripted, or not but the brunette kept giving one of the blonde girls looks. Not dirty looks, but looks of sadness. _'Why is she so sad?'_ I wondered to myself. The looks that she was giving the blonde girl was the way my parents looked at me the night before.

This made me pay more attention to the blonde girl. She slid through the choreography with practiced ease. "She has got to be a natural born dancer." I thought aloud to myself. She was fantastic. It looked like she wasn't even trying.

The brunette quickly grabbed my attention back though as she sang the last notes of the song:

 _ **"Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead..."**_

Then she jumped off of the stage and walked menacingly over to the guy that looks to big for his chair. He was sitting next to a girl who had a strong face and pretty bangs. It went a little like this:

 **Brunette Latina:** _What did you just say to_ her?  
 **Other Brunette with bangs:** _He literally just said you were_ great.  
 **Brunette Latina:** _What? You gonna tell her_ too?  
 **Awkwardly Large Guy:** _Everyone in this school knows. And guess what? They don't care.  
_ **Me:** _Knows what?!  
_ **Brunette Latina:** _Not the school you idiot,_ everyone!  
 **Awkwardly Large Guy:** _What are you..._

 ** _SMACK!_**

The brunette latina slapped the large guy speechless. Everyone paused, including me. Then the screen went black and the credits began to roll. "What! That's it?!" I screeched at the t.v. What sounded like elevater music began to play as I started searching for the creater of this show.

"Ryan Murphy Productions. I can remember that. Do not forget. Ryan Murphy." I say repeatedly hoping repetition will help me remember the name better. I know the biggest lie I tell myself is _'Ill remember that later'_ so I begin searching for a pen, or a pencil. I mean a crayon would work at this point. My search came up empty-as usual- so I head downstairs to see if I can find one there.

Before I descended down the stairs I put down the basketball I had been holding since I got out of the car. I hadn't even realized that I was holding it all this time. Now I start to descend down the stairs. The closer I got to the bottom of the stairs, the more I started hearing the rustling of paper. Then my aunts voice rang into my ears.

"Gerald, have you looked over the guardianship documents we are supposed to sign in order to take care of Nyla." She asked.

"Nope."

"Well why not?" My aunt asked. Irritation evident in her tone. "She still is my niece Gerald."

"But think about it. Who else would want to take care of her. I mean if her own family is forced too, then who will ' _willingly'_ want to care for her." He countered back. Wet heat prickled at the back of my eyes, but I wasn't going to cry. I could't let him have that satisfaction.

"Just relax Terry. It's not like someone will want her. Who's gonna take her from us?" He asked my aunt. I knew that I wasn't their favorite person in the world, but I didn't know they hated me this much.

"Well I guess you're right. We can sign them later. Here, put them in your study." The rustling of paper stopped as my aunt handed them to my uncle. The fading away of footsteps told me that he was walking away and down he hall to where his study was.

I heard my aunt sigh. "Oh little brother. How could you be so...stupid." She was talking about my dad. I thought she was talking bad about him until I heard her sniffling. Was she... crying?

"She can't be," I say under my breath. "She never cries."

"You left your only child behind. Your legacy. How could you be so reckless?" She was sniffling harder now. I was just about to go down the last step and tell her everything was going to be okay, and that he's not gone permanently when _Gerald_ came back from his study.

"Honey, are you okay?" His voice didn't even have an ounce of concern in it.

"Does it look like I'm okay," she snapped. "My fuckin' brother just died."

"I thought these things didn't effect you. You were fine during the funeral." He pointed out.

"They don't but...things change." Her voice cracking a little toward the end.

I couldn't take it anymore. I had to leave. As quickly, and quietly as I could I went back up the stairs and into the attic. It seemed like they were about to have an intimate moment anyway. But was everything she said true? Was I my parents legacy? Well I am the only living thing they left behind, so I believe it's true.

This new information put a lot of pressure on me. I flopped down on the forgotten mattress and something poked me in my side. "Ouch!" I say while trying to find the perpetrator who stabbed me. I reach into the pocket of my dress and I take out the picture I saved from my house.

"Oh," I say when realization hit me. "It was just the picture frame." I removed the frame and kept the picture. I closely inspected it and wondered how could we be so ignorant. Neither of the 3 of us knew what was gonna transpire two years later. If we did, we wouldn't have taken those short years for granted. I don't know, that's just how I think sometimes.

I lay flat on my stomach and put the picture on my heart. To feel closer to them I guess. "Mom, dad I..." I don't even know what to say. I was just speaking into the dark. "What is the plan behind all of this? What good will come out of you not being there for me?" No response. Of course. But I trust them. Whatever crazy plan they have in store I know it's a good one, I just don't know what it is.

I close my eyes trying to quiet my thoughts long enough to drift off to sleep. Pushing away any doubts I have, I think about the one thing that connects me to my parents. Basketball.

 **A Few Months Later**

Things have been going pretty good for me lately. Well basketball wise. I have been working nonstop on improving my game and I have been scouted! Like legit. I play for a college team in New York. And I'm only nine years old! Oh yeah my birthday just passed. First birthday without my parents. It was hard at first, but then...no I'm lying it was still hard.

My _'legal_ _guardians'_ -well more like illegal they still haven't signed the documents- did nothing for me. I got no 'happy birthday' or anything. They didn't even acknowledge it. But I'm used to it. They only claim me when I do something great. For example, when I got scouted they were quick to tell the press how proud of me they were. And how much time they put into working with me.

If lies had a smell my _'guardians'_ would stink...major stink.

But anyway things have been pretty good. I got major press. Only because of my age, and my level of playing. I average 17pts a game, and even more assists. I have broken so many ankles, I've lost track. Not to sound conceited or anything, but I'm proud of myself. And I have every right to be.

 **Somewhere In Los Angeles**

"What do you mean you can't choreograph this dance routine?" Ryan Murphy yelled at his now fired choreographer.

"I c-can't work with b-basketballs sir. I was never good at s-sports." The choreographer choked out.

"Whatever. Leave, I'll find someone else." Ryan said with a flick of a hand.

The choreographer left with his tail between his legs. Ryan turned on the t.v in his office, and was pleased by what he saw. "How could a nine year old play college ball?" he said to himself. "You know what I don't care. I'm gonna get her. One way or another."

 **A Few Days Later; Nyla's POV**

Out of the blue the phone rang. I usually don't answer the phone when nobody is here, but I did this time. Something was telling me to.

"Hello." I say

"Um, hello are you Nyla, the nine year old basketball sensation?"

"I wouldn't say sensation, but.." I was cut off.

"Oh, how modest. I was wondering have you ever seen the t.v show Glee."

 _'Glee, glee, glee. man that sounds familiar.'__ "Well I believe so yes." I formally answer.

"Great, how would you like to choreograph a dance using a basketball. I have heard you are quite the ball handler."

"Umm, I'm sorry may I ask who's calling?"

"This is Ryan Murphy, the creater of glee."

"Ohh," the realization I felt was so overwhelming. "I know who you are. Exactly who you are."

"Well that is just marvelous. So do you agree with teaching the cast some moves?"

Was this the plan my parents had in store. "You know what, Mr. Murphy," at this point I didn't even care what the plan is. "I would love too."

"Thank you Nyla, I know you will not disappoint."

"No, thank you. Umm, by the way when, and where will I be helping you, and the cast members?" I ask.

"Well, now would be great. I have people outside of your house ready to take you to L.A." He answered normally.

"What," I yell while looking out of the window. Ryan is a man of his word. There were men in all black, with suit cases and cars to match. "Is all of this really necessary Mr. Murphy?"

"Oh please, call me Ryan. And absolutely. The best deserves the best, and you Nyla are the best. See you in a few." With that he hung up.

"See ya," I say into an empty receiver.

Okay. Let me get this straight. I'm going to L.A to teach the cast of glee how to work with basketballs. What! This can't be real. But it is. All my hard work just payed off. This is it. But what will I tell my _'guardians'_. How would I escape? You know what, they're just gonna come home to an empty house.

This has to be the plan my parents had in mind, it just has to be.

* * *

 **A.N_** Thanks everyone who read. I promise Naya, and Heather will be in the next chapter  
Sorry for any spelling, a/o any grammatical errors.  
 **P.S** _Don't forget to review.


	3. Encounters

A.N_Thanks to everyone who read.  
 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing other than my imagination.

* * *

 **Nyla's POV**

I hesitantly walk out of the door that has, in more than one way, kept me on the inside. Almost immediately one of Ryan's men approached me. "Hello, Nyla."

"Um..hi." I say awkwardly back. "Umm..I'm sorry, but..um...how is all of this supposed to work? Mr. Murphy left out some details I would like to know."

The guy just stared back at me blankly. "What would you like to know?" he asked. Something was really off about this guy. Not 'off' in a bad way, but 'off' in like a robotic, systematic way. He looks, and talks proper like some sort of human robot. There was something else too, I just couldn't put my finger on it. It was something familiar.

"Well, I wanna start with your name. My mother taught me that if I want to get to know a person I should start with their name first." I say to him.

He looked at his watch, clearly avoiding the question. "I apologize for the rush Nayla, but we are running a bit behind schedule." He ushered me towards the car, and before I could open the door one of the other guys in all black opened it for me. If this is what being famous feels like, I could get used to this.

I sat awkwardly in the middle back seat between two big guys -also in all black. Mr. Robotic got in the drivers seat sped off to our unknown destination. Well it was unknown to me. Where would we stop at to spend the night, because I know that we are not driving to L.A without stopping. Robot dude may look and act un-human but everyone gets tired.

An awkward silence fell upon us. I knew nothing about these people. They could be frauds who were actually out to get me, and harvest my organs or something.  
-I overreact sometimes.

"So, where are we going?" I ask breaking the heavy silence.

"To the airport." Robot guy answered back shortly. "Didn't think we were going to drive all the way to Los Angles did you?"

 _ohh.._ "N-no, of course I knew that. I mean taking a plane would be the more sensible option." I try to cover up.

"Mhm, it would be," he replies back while briefly looking up into the rear-view mirror at me. That was the first time I've seen amusement in his eyes since I've met him. My parents always told me that I had the kind of personality people would love to surround themselves with. I never got what they meant by it. I still dont get it, but I guess that they were just saying that just to say it.

The rest of the ride consisted of me looking out the window pretending I was in a music video. -something I just love to do- and thinking about what's to come in merely a few hours. I was going to L.A. I've never left New York, ever. The reason I'm leaving is what's the most surprising to me. I'm excited, I can't even lie. Mainly only to meet the brunette Latina, and the blonde dancer girl.

I haven't caught another episode of Glee in months, the ancient device wouldn't cut on for me anymore. I've been left in the dark about what happened after the big "speech ending" slap, and it has been killing me. I wanted to know what everyone else plus the school knew about the Latina. -I hate cliff hangers.

Another thing that has been bothering me lately is that I've been thinking less and less about my parents. I feel horrible about it. What if I do something like forget the sound of my father's voice. Or the way I felt when they would hug me? It's just terrifying to know that I might not ever feel what it's like to have parents again.

But I'm just over-reacting, right? Right?

* * *

We arrive at the airport before I get entirely engulfed by my inner thoughts and doubt. -gladly. The two men in all black who sat beside me got out of the car, and waited for me to get out as well. _this is it._ I get out and one of the men closes the door behind me. _I could really get used to this.._

"Nyla." The robotic man called to me.

I run around the car to where he was. "Yeah?"

There was a hush that fell upon us or something for what felt like a huge amount of time. "My name is Carter."

It wasn't surprising that his name was Carter. He looked like one. He was business-like, well groomed, and kept to himself from the little time I've spent with him. The surprising part was that he had told me his name. "Sudden change of heart?" I question.

"No, not at all," he deadpanned. Face as stoic as I've seen it. "Lets get on the plane." He took my hand and lead me to the big flying machine. The other guys were following closely behind us. It was like we were wolves, always traveling in packs. Carter gave some person our tickets, and we were escorted on the plane. We surpassed coach and went straight to first class.

"Woah," I say while looking around. It was amazing. There were flat screen t.v's everywhere, and the seats looked so comfortable. The aroma of exotic, and well season food filled my nose and I hummed at the smell. I've been living off of _Ramen_ for months now.

"You hungry?" Carter asked while looking down at me. He was still holding my hand, and I haven't felt this secure in a while.

"Yeah, very."

He took me over to a seat and told me to wait while he grabbed something for me. He let go of my hand and I missed the feeling almost instantly. Carter had such a mysterious, yet demandable presence, that you would pick up on it instantly. He reminded me of my dad. Especially by the way he held my hand.

His grip was firm. Not too firm to where he was hurting me, but firm enough to where I wouldn't be able to run away easily. Every stride he took was with purpose. Like he knew he was important. I mean if you look the part why not act it?

He came back a few minuets later with a steaming plate full of things I have never even seen, let alone tasted before. My eyes were fixated on the plate. I couldn't look away. My mouth watering on que as he walked closer and closer with my food.

"I didn't know what you liked so I got you a little of everything," he said while sitting the plate on my lap.

"Thanks," I mumble before I start shoveling all kinds of food in my mouth. I haven't ate like this since...well, you know.

"Will you stop eating like that." Carter roughly asked me while grabbing both of my wrists.

"Sorry," I say, but it really sounded like 'fworry' because of how full my mouth was. I swallowed what was in my mouth and waited for him to let go of my eating utensils. Once he did, I slowly rubbed my wrists.

"I apologize," he said. I don't think he knew how much force he applied to my wrists.

"Its fine," I replied. I slowed my eating a bit after that. Carter took me by surprise with that sudden burst of irritation. At least I know that he can feel emotions. I guess he's not a robot. Kinda upsetting though, it would've been really cool.

A few minuets later a flight attendant walked up to us and took my empty tray, saying that the flight would begin soon. I began to start feeling nervous. I was very excited to fly, but I've never flown before.

"Are you nervous?" Carter asked like he could read my thoughts.

"A little.." I replied.

"Don't worry, the flight itself is very peaceful. Its just the takeoff, and the landing that still troubles me." He admitted.

"Wait, you're still afraid of flying?" I question in disbelief.

"Mhmm."

Well now I'm totally convinced he's not a robot. "What do you think we should do? Ya know to get our minds off of the takeoff and landing."

Carter just answered me with a smug look. "Well, the plane took-off already. Not as bad as you thought, huh?"

I looked at him in disbelief, and rushed to the nearest window. All I see are clouds, and blue sky. How did we takeoff without me knowing. Isn't the pilot supposed to make an announcement to let everyone know.

"I knew flying was gonna be a problem for you, it is for all first-time flyers. And for the little time I've known you I have figured out that you just adore talking, so I used that as a coping mechanism. You're welcome."

"Thank..you." I finish awkwardly.

* * *

 **Carter's POV**

I guess it's my turn to make a dent in this story. I'm Carter, the head of Mr. Murphy's security. More like his own personal pack of dogs. He doesn't treat me badly, its everyone else that he treats like shit. The pay is good, though I cant speak for anyone else.

When Mr. Murphy said I would be starting a new 'mission' -what he likes to call them- I did not imagine baby sitting as part of the job. This is a huge inconvenience. I did not sign up to watch a 9 year old girl. Whom of which never stops talking. Even as I explain to you now of how I've gotten to this point in my life, she continues to drone on, and on about things of no relevance.

One of the more troubling things about this little girl is that within minutes of meeting her, she saw right through my facade. I could tell she knew I was never always the conserved type. But that is another story for another time.

In order to prepare myself for this 'mission', I read up a little on Nyla. I needed to know what kind of kid I was dealing with. Like if she had any priors, or was a delinquent. The thing that stuck out was that I found out she was scouted to a college team in New York. Mr Murphy never informed me of this. Actually he never told me why he needed her in the first place. He just told me where to find her.

I did as I was told and now I'm here. Though I am quite curious of what he needs her for. Even as I look at her now, nothing comes to mind except that she plays ball. Maybe that's what he wanted her.

"Nyla, would you answer a question for me?" I inquire.

She took her eyes from the window for the first time since the plane took off and focused her eyes on me. They were so wide, and full of disbelief. She was amused by the little things that most people took for granted and never paid attention to. I loved it.

"Have you seen how high up we are?" She asked. Sounding just as shocked as I expected her to.

"Yes, I am aware of that. We are approximately 48,000 feet in the air," I inform her.

"Woah," she replied in a breathy tone.

"But I do need to ask you something. Why is Mr. Murphy in need of your service?" I question.

"Oh, he didn't tell you?"

I only shake my head to the question.

"He needs me to help choreograph a dance that involves basketball. Ya know, teach the cast some moves," she says like this is something she does often.

"And you agreed to this?"

"Yupp," she answers simply. After that she turned back to the window and continued to look awestruck at the clouds in the cerulean sky. I guess it was her polite/not so polite way to tell me she didn't want to talk anymore.

 _'thats a first..'_

She had the right idea though. This day has been very tiring for me. I had to leave from L.A to New York, and then vise versa. I am going bicoastal twice in one day. Plus, I deserve some rest after dealing with a kid I hardly know for hours. So I prepare to go to sleep.

I slip my headphones in my ears and release for the first time today. The only time I do get to relax is when I'm sleeping. I can let my guard down and finally exhale. Its funny though, because I only feel this way when I'm unconscious. But today, I got a taste of what it would be like being able to be a wake and pleasant. And I think its because of a 9 year old girl.

* * *

I wake to the pattern of warm air softly hitting my lower right jaw. I blink while trying to adjust my eyes to the light of the plane. I shift my head down to where the source of the air is coming from. It was Nyla. She was sleeping soundly. It almost looks like she hasn't slept this care-free in months. With as little movement as I could, I took both of my headphones out of my ears and stored them in my pocket.

I check my watch for the time. We should be arriving in L.A any minute now. I look back at Nyla. She's hugging my arm for dear life, and she has one hell of a grip on it too. Static sounds in my ears and the pilot announces that we are getting ready to land. I put my seat belt on and debate whether I should wake Ny or not. Did I just address her with a nickname?

This little girl is really beginning to change me. I don't like it. The change I mean.

 _Nyla_ begins to stir and I mentally curse myself for being so loud with my thoughts. She might have felt them radiating off of me. When I think, I think excruciatingly hard.

She whimpers and whines a little as she squints her eyes open. From that I already know she isn't a morning person, and doesn't like being woken up prematurely.

It takes her a minute to realize the kind of position she's in. She looks at her arm, and what it's wrapped around and jerks away from me and toward the window. I think even she was surprised with how fast she moved.

"Sorry," she breaths out. "For..uh..in-invading your personal space."

She looks shocked, and almost embarrassed. I try hard to stifle back a laugh, but apparently I didn't try hard enough. Nyla eyes me with anger I've never seen in her eyes before. Well I wouldn't say anger. It was more of a grumpiness. She is 9. Entirely too adorable.

Wait. Did I just call another human being adorable?...

"What's so funny?" she asks. A hint of irritation in her voice.

I clear my throat and swallow thickly. This will be my first time talking since I've been awake and I need it to be at least audible.

"You," I clear my throat again. "It's just you..and your antics."

Her grumpiness slowly changed into confusion. "What are antics?" She questions.

I exhale sharply through my nose and change the subject. "The plane will be landing soon, buckle up."

She does as she's told and puts her seat belt on. Before I know it the plane touches ground and then all together stops moving. Finally the flight was over. I stand up briskly and take Nyla's hand in mine.

We exit the plane and, as I expected, there were men waiting for us in a similar fashion like my men and I were waiting for Nyla. I eye my watch and realize we are in fact behind schedule. Shit. It's close to six, and the cast will be getting ready to depart into their trailers.

The closer we get to the car the more irritated I seem to become. I do not return the 'hello nods' I get from most of the men I've trained. There will be another time to greet them properly.

We reach the car, and I open the door for Nyla. She timidly gets in and I shortly follow after. I eye the diver harshly and he speeds off toward our destination. I know my lack of being punctual will not go unnoticed by Mr. Murphy.

* * *

 **Nyla's P.O.V**

Woah. I'm In L.A! I keep my eyes on the huge letters LAX as I leave the airport. Well at least until they get out of view. I turn my head to look at Carter. The muscles in his jaw are visibly clenching, and his leg is shaking almost uncontrollably. He looks tense. He was just fine a second ago. This guy goes through mood swings faster than I go through _frooties._ -I love that candy.

I change my view and look out of the window. Everything is different. Well everything looks different in L.A. It's way more spacious, and the people look friendlier. It seems like my kind of city.

We slowly pull to a halt and Carter gets out of the car. I do the same and our hands find each others again. Its almost magnetic. We enter a building that is taller than my brain can process, and walk down a few corridors. We stop at a door and Carter bends down to my height while letting go of my hand.

"Mr. Murphy can come off a little overwhelming at first," he warns.

"Oh trust me, I know that," I say remembering my previous phone conversation with him.

"Are you ready Nyla? From this point on, you will be thrust into something completely different than what you are used to," he says. It's almost like he doesn't want me to go into the room.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. I can do this."

We just stare at each other a little while longer. A few moments later he stands to his full height and straightens his tie. He was gathering his composure I guess. He looks down at me one last time and all of the sincerity in his eyes were gone. Not a trace of it anywhere. He exhales and slowly opens the door.

Ryan's booming voice cuts into my ears. "You are late Carter."

"I know that sir, and it is completely my fault," he counters.

"I know, who else's fault would it be?" He retorts. He shifts his attention from Carter and towards me. "There she is."

I clear my throat and shyly say a 'hi' to Ryan. I slightly squeeze Carter's hand and then wonder when I grabbed it in the first place.

Ryan rises from his chair and silently approaches me. I glance up at Carter for reassurance, but it seems like he not even there. He's just emotionless. Ryan stops walking when he's standing directly in front off me. "How are you?" he asks.

"I'm-I'm fine. Everything is good. Still can't believe I'm in L.A though," I say starting to slowly ease into the conversation.

"Good, very good." He then looks at Carter. "If someone didn't arrive late," he looks back at me. "You could have began to teach the cast."

This time it's Carter who squeezes my hand. He's looking directly at Ryan but is trying to communicate with me.

"Well.." I begin. "..since I don't have enough time to teach them, I could at least introduce myself. Right?" I look between Carter and Ryan waiting for an answer.

Ryan seemed to to be debating ferociously in his head. "I suppose we could do that." He looks at Carter and then me. "Follow me."

Ryan leaves the room first. Carter and I follow shortly after. We make several turns and go through several doors. Climb several flights of stairs, and take several elevators. I honestly thought we would never get to wherever we were going. Well, until we reached to a set. A stage set.

There where lights and chairs and..more lights. It was kind of a bit overwhelming. I squeeze Carter's hand again and this time he looks down at me. That calmed me a little. I exhaled as we started to get closer and closer to the set. I didn't even notice the group of people that must be the cast.

We finally stop walking and Ryan spoke to the group. "Guys come here really quick."

12-15 people stood and began to walk toward us. Some of their faces began to look familiar to me. There was the girl with the strong face but cute bangs. And there was the awkwardly large guy that made everyone else look like a garden gnome. The one the Latina slapped.

I forgot. The Latina. I would be meeting her in like..a few seconds. I have a ton of questions. Would it come off as rude to bombard her with questions? I desperately want her to like me. First impressions count.

They all stop walking and form small group in front of us. My nerves go hay wire. This is really it.

"Guys," Ryan starts. "This is the basketball sensation I've been telling you about." Ryan turns to me and grabs me by the shoulders. I reluctantly let go of Carter's hand and let Ryan lead me closer to the group. "This is Nyla."

A round of 'awwws" and 'she's so cute' sounds on cue as I'm introduced. I look up at them and they seem so friendly. They seem like normal people. I shyly wave at them and lower my head.

"She will be helping you practice for the basketball dance scene. We can't get to it today," he turns to eye Carter then he faces them again. "..but she just wanted to introduce herself," he looks down and winks at me.

I giggle a little at Ryan. He's not that bad. Carter might just be a little paranoid.

One of the cast members steps forward to greet me. It was the girl who was singing with the Latina on the stage in the auditorium. She held out her hand and I timidly took it. "I'm Amber," she tells me. "Don't worry you'll fit in just fine around here."

"Thank you," I manage to say back. She has really soft hands. I make a mental note to ask her what she uses when we know each other better.

She disappears to the back of the group and another cast member steps up. It was a guy this time with fairly pale skin. He had sort of a kid face, but he looked super friendly. He bent down to my level as he spoke. "I'm Chris. And if you can even teach me how to dribble a basketball you will be the greatest player I know." He winks and stands to his full height.

I chuckle lightly and say confidently, "Don't worry Chris. I got you." He holds his fist out for me to bump it. I do, and then follows a similar path like Amber's.

The rest of the cast introduced themselves in a similar pattern. Lastly was the blonde dancer girl. She was pretty tall, but she walked with way more grace than any other tall person I know.

When I looked up into her eyes I noticed for the first time that they were blue. Shockingly the same color of my dads eyes. And if I'm not mistaken the exact same shade as well.

When she was getting ready to introduce herself, she picked me up. Literally picked me up from off of the ground and spun me around. It shocked as well as scared me half to death. I was not expecting that. When she put me down she had this infectious smile that I couldn't help but return. She...she was so..beautiful.

The kind of beautiful that was humbling. The kind of beautiful that demands to be noticed, to be felt. The kind that ran inside as well as outside of your body. The kind that reminded me of the love my parents shared. I was enchanted by her. And I have never, ever, been drawn to someone that quickly within meeting them.

"I've heard so much about you Nyla." She says bending to my level and taking my hand in hers.

I was speechless. I felt so at home with her. Just so at ease. "You-You have?" I question.

"Yupp," she giggles out. "I'm Heather."

"I'm Nyla...wait you already know that," I squeeze my eyes shut trying to mentally backtrack.

She laughs. "Yeah I do." She stands but is still holding my hand. She directs her gaze to Ryan. "We got it from here."

Ryan looks amused. "Great." He then looks at me. "We'll start tomorrow. Rest up." Then he left along with Carter. Before Carter was entirely out of the room he looked back at me. That was it. Just a second of hesitation. I wonder what was on his mind...

I didn't have time to ponder on that thought as I'm whisked away by Heather. She's like a grown-up kid, if that makes sense. We pass all of the other cast members and head to a destination unknown to me.

"Where are we going?" I ask through laughter.

"I'm taking you to go meet Naya," She answers like it's the most obvious thing ever.

 _Naya?_ I question under my breath. Then realization hit me like a ton of bricks. The Latina had been missing from the group of cast members. I don't understand how I didn't realize before.

A few doors and stair cases later, we're outside and running toward rows of trailers. We hop over a few bushes...well I hop over a few bushes, while Heather does a no-hand cartwheel over them. I stop and look at her in amazement while she wiggles her eyebrows at me and continues running.

I follow closely behind, mentally giving thanks to my coach for making me run endless suicides during practice. I wasn't even close to being winded. We pass a few trailers and then begin to slow down. I guess her trailer was coming up.

We come to a complete stop and I glance at Heather. Her eyes where already fixed on me. "Impressive," she says to me smugly. "No one can keep up with me, not even her." She nudges her head toward the trailer in front of us.

"Well I uh..kinda run a lot so.." I trail off. "It comes with the sport."

She just nods her head a few times with this look of deep thought. When our eyes meet she looks away embarrassed, and I just feel my stomach flip and my knees go weak. I have no idea what is happening.

The air is filled with silence. Well it's quiet enough for me to hear the faint singing that I believe is coming from the trailer a few feet in front of us. I look at Heather again and all she does is smile and nudge her head toward the trailer. That was all the permission I needed.

I walk up the few steps that separated me from the door. I lift my shaky hand and place it on the door knob that led to the inside of the trailer. I hesitate a little and Heather places a comforting hand on the small of my back. I melt into the gesture and instantly gain courage. I twist the nob slowly and open the door even slower.

When I step entirely into the trailer Naya's back is toward me. Thank God. That just gives me extra time to gather myself. Heather ushers me into the trailer a bit more as she steps in also. We just kinda stop and stare at Naya. Just completely and utterly amazed with her singing. It sounds way better in person.

The right amount of soulfulness and hurt mixed with the right amount of raspiness and raw talent was simply..breathtaking. And apparently I wasn't the only one who thought so. Heather looked over taken with emotion, and gratitude. Like it was the first time she had heard her sing.

I'm sure she hears Naya sing all of the time though;she works with her. I guess she just really likes the sound of her voice. Based on what I'm hearing, I'm surprised who wouldn't.

 ** _'When I lay with you  
_** _ **I could stay there Close my eyes'**_

Naya had headphones in so I just assumed she couldn't hear us. "Oh my God.." I say completely awestruck. Those lyrics. She sung them like she wrote them herself. Like she's lived them at some point.

"I know," Heather answered back just as awestruck. "Just beautiful," she says under her breath, but I was still able to hear it. She is looking at her like..like my parents used to look at each other.

 ** _'And I set Fire..  
To the rain...'_**

Naya slowly turns as the note rings through the air and abruptly cuts it short. "Heather," she says with her hand over her chest. "..you scared the crap outta me."

I guess when Naya was singing Heather gravitated toward her without noticing. To be completely honest I didn't notice it either. Before, Heather was by my side, now she is standing in front of me. When did that happen?

"I'm-I'm sorry. I just.." She trails off. "I-I just needed to introduce you to um..someone." She finished.

"Who?" Naya asks.

Heather cautiously steps to the side revealing me to Naya. I don't look her directly in the eye. Actually I don't look at her at all. It's only when the silence gets unbearable that I chance a look at the Latina.

I slowly look up to meet Naya's eyes. She's staring at me like she has seen a ghost. Her mouth is slightly ajar and her piercing mocha eyes are looking right through me. I shift uncomfortably under her gaze. She takes a few steps closer to me, her eyes never once leaving mine. Her breath became uneven as it hitched in her throat. She swallows hard to even it back out.

She's just a foot away from me now. Heather is standing beside me as silent as the trailer walls, just observing the encounter while Naya and I hold each others stare. Her eyes only moving to study the contours of my face as quickly as she could, then returning back to our staring contest. Her eyes begin to redden as she slowly lifts her arm.

I only remove my eyes from hers to look at her arm rise, and move hesitantly toward my face. I look back into her eyes and see buckets of raw emotion. I see nothing and everything in her. I see my mom, I see my dad. I even see myself. All of this in just one person.

Her arm raises higher and flows toward my face. My breath catches in my throat and I'm the one to swallow hard this time. Her hand is so close to my cheek I can feel the warmth radiating off of it.

I close my eyes readying myself for the touch I never knew I've been longing for. It never came. I open my eyes to stare at her hand. It's only a few centimeters away from where I wanted it to be. I then shift my eyes to look into hers. They're filled with tears, and before a tear has a chance to spill over she swiftly exits the trailer.

I exhale deeply and wet my lips which had become extremely dry during the encounter. I turn to Heather and she looks just as confused as I feel. The trailer seemed to have gotten noticeably warmer inside.

"Is it hot..or.." I say. Not really caring to finish my thought.

Heather shakes her head. "Na it's uh..pretty hot in here." Her eyes light up with an idea. "I have some ice-cream in my trailer," she sing-songs.

"Then why are we still standing here?" I question.

She laughs and begins to pull me out of Naya's trailer. Hopefully ice-cream can distract me from the thoughts I will be consumed by in a few hours.

* * *

 **Naya's P.O.V**

That kid. That little girl. I just..I just lost it. All composure, all self control, all sanity. I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm crazy now. But she just doesn't know...

I have endured a relatively painful life. Others may think otherwise, but no one truly knows pain until they've lost a child. I wouldn't even wish it on my worst enemy (if I had one).

The details are just too...too...painful for me to re-call them for you now. Give me time. I just..need time.

I can't be around that little girl. She brings up too many memories I want to forget. So, while she's here I have to avoid her. If not, I would probably lose my job. I heard she could be here for a few weeks..

This just may make my plan a little harder to follow through on. Shit.

* * *

 **A.N** _Sorry for the wait for those who are still interested in this story.  
I apologize for any grammatical/spelling errors.  
Feedback is appreciated.


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